


Stability

by theskywasblue



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Pre-Canon, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would probably get splinters in his ass, and then Cougar would laugh at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stability

**Author's Note:**

> I blame [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=atanih88)[**atanih88**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=atanih88) for getting me hooked on writing _The Losers_ porn...although really there's no one to blame but me...

Jensen could taste blood in his mouth, just a little, his own. He didn’t think he’d loosened any teeth, but he had definitely split his lip on the dive off the rooftop. His mouth felt raw, the texture of the inside edge of his lower lip like hamburger. Cougar obviously didn’t mind; he kept sliding his tongue over it, a tiny bite of pain, and Jensen might have cared, except he was too busy worrying about the fact that the shitty safe-house table was going to collapse underneath him, send him to the floor in a heap of filthy flak vests, Cougar’s disassembled rifle, and the salt and pepper shakers. He’d probably end up with splinters in his ass, and then Cougar would laugh at him.

Jensen dug his fingers into the edge of the table with one hand, and Cougar’s sweaty shoulder with the other; there was a long gash just above his collarbone that he’d closed with pressure clips, but Jensen had interrupted him in the middle of cleaning up the blood, and it mixed pinkish with the sweat and water, running down Cougar’s chest. Jensen wanted to taste it, just a little, dragged his fingers through the pale streaks and put them to his lips, only to be knocked onto his elbows by the combination of a particularly hard thrust of Cougar’s hips and a particularly rough shake of the table, like tectonic plates sliding.

“Jesus – shit,” Jensen locked his heels behind Cougar’s thighs, the lurch in his stomach mingling with the throb of pleasure and the aching stretch, “Cougar – the table – I don’t think it’s...”

The table squealed – the sound of bolts ripping in cheap wood – and Cougar’s fingers dug brutally into his hips, making the skin and muscle throb, making Jensen drag his blunt fingernails across the tabletop and arch his back. Something clattered noisily to the floor – Jensen hoped it wasn’t anything important – and then he forgot to care about anything at all, pleasuring shoring out all the important synapses in his brain, like a system-wide reset.

“You’re lucky I’m not fat,” he managed raggedly, once his brain came back online. The safe-house’s ceiling had the ugliest water stain on it that he had ever seen. There were probably six tons of black mould growing up above their heads.

Cougar laughed against his shoulder, then pushed himself up, taking a careful step back that nonetheless made Jensen shudder and wince. He closed up his pants and loosely fastened his buckle before offering Jensen a hand to boost him off the table. Making sense of Jensen’s pants proved to be harder work – when he’d kicked them off he’d managed to get at least one of the legs turned inside out _and_ tied in a knot.

“Tougher than it looks.”

“Like me,” Jensen grinned, sharp and shameless. Cougar rolled his eyes, but didn’t actively argue, so Jensen counted it as a win. Anyway, the odd near-death experience was no big deal.

He didn’t feel so smug about it fifteen minutes or so later, when Pooch arrived, tossed his gear on the table and the whole thing collapsed, sending out a cascade of dust and wood scraps across the cramped kitchen.

He was grateful though, for the distinct lack of splinters in his ass.

-End-


End file.
